His other hand came down, wrapped around her wrist, and guided her palm to his balls.
She felt their weight settle against her hand — dense, warm, shifting slightly with a biological weight that made her palm instinctively cup them. She worked her fingers in a slow, rolling pressure, massaging the way he'd placed her hand to massage, and heard the faintest exhale from above.
She opened her mouth wider.
Her jaw cracked faintly with the effort of accommodating the girth even laterally. She took the head between her lips, her cheeks pulling in with suction, her tongue pressing flat against the underside.
Her jaw hurt.
Already. Genuinely. The stretch of it pulling at the hinge muscle behind her ear, the corners of her mouth aching with the spread.
'He is the size of my face,' she thought, with the strange, dissociated clarity of a mind working around the edges of overwhelm. 'The length of him is the length of my face. And I am taking just the head.'
She sucked.
